He's gone
by scubysnak
Summary: Prequel to Lindsey's Surprise detailing why Grissom left Vegas. CS femmeslash. Chapter 14 is up
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em...though I wish I did! And if I did...the fun I could have!!!

**A/N**: This is another prequel to "Lindsey's Surprise." I had a few people ask why Grissom left town. This is my attempt to explain it.

"Gris—Gil. It's not going to happen. You knew before you agreed to any of this that it was just going to be me and Catherine raising him."

"That was before. Before I saw him. Before I realized how difficult this would be," he pleaded.

"I'm sorry. Really, I am. But we're his parents. As unconventional as it may seem to some people, we're it. We're what he has."

"But it doesn't have to be that way. I can—"

"No! No, you can't. We told you. You agreed. We're his parents. You can be his uncle—just like the rest of the guys. But you're not playing daddy."

"I could get a lawyer. Is that how you want to do this?"

"A lawyer? Are you fucking serious?" Catherine had joined the argument now. "Gil, you signed the legal documents our lawyer drew up. You already signed away any legal rights that you have."

"Babe, go back inside. I'll deal with this," Sara said as she attempted to usher her wife back in the house.

"Yes Catherine. Just go back inside. This is between me and the mother of my child," Grissom was just adding fuel to the fire now.

"You son-of-a---," she was cut off by a furious Sara.

"Catherine! Inside. I will deal with this," Sara said before turned her anger back on Grissom. "Grissom, you know how much I've always wanted this. Someone to love me unconditionally. Someone to share to my life. A place I could truly call home. And once I had all of that, I realized I wanted more. I wanted a baby. I wanted to start my own family. The thought of it—well, it scared the shit out of me given my past. But, I still wanted it. And you were able to give me that gift." She took his hands in hers. "You gave me the most precious gift anyone could have ever given me. **_You_** did that! Please don't take it away. Not now."

Grissom knew that everything Sara was saying was true. Yet, he also knew that he had lost his chance with her. _"Sara, I don't know what to do about this." "By the time you do, it will be too late."_ When they had come to him and humbly asked him to father **their** child, he hadn't agreed at first. He told them that he needed to consider their request. Of course, he wanted to immediately shout, "Yes, I'll have a baby with you, Sara." But he hadn't. He had known then as he knew now, that this was Sara's family with Catherine. And still, a part of him had hoped that this would be a way for him to ensure that he would always be close to Sara. A way to guarantee a life-long connection to the brunette he loved. But now, here she was pleading with him to back off.

"Sara, I don't know what to do about this," he said to her.

_Now, where have I heard this before?_ Infuriated by his lack of understanding and persistence, Sara stepped closer to him and put a finger in his face. "We were perfectly willing to let you have some role in his life. That's why we said you could be an uncle to him. That's more than our lawyer advised us to let you have. You don't get it, do you? We never were and never will be—together. If you agreed to help us have Gibson just so that you'd always be connected to me, well, then, that's just sick." She watched his expression change. "That's it, isn't it? You thought that if you did this for us...for me…that what? I'd be so grateful that sooner or later I'd quit playing house with Catherine and come running to you? It's not going to happen." She spun on her heels and slammed the door leaving a very stunned Grissom just standing there.

Two days later, Grissom was leaving the office and walking toward his SUV when he was approached by a young man that reminded him of Greg. The man walked up to him and said, "Gil Grissom?"

Gil responded, "Yes. And you are?"

The man smiled and stuck his hand inside his jacket, retrieving a packet of papers. "I am… serving you."

Grissom took the papers that were extended to him. "Serving me with what?"

"Sorry, man. I don't read 'em. I just make sure you get 'em." He turned and walked away, leaving Grissom staring after him slack-jawed.

Grissom put his kit down and opened the papers the man had handed him. Words began to leap off the papers at him…_relinquishment of paternal rights…cease and desist…restraining order…Sara Sidle…Gibson Tyner Sidle…no further contact…_

Stoically, he folded the papers and placed them in his coat pocket. He picked up his kit and got into his Denali and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed the number he knew by heart.

She looked down at her ringing cell phone. _Fuck._ Flipping her phone open, she didn't bother to greet the caller. "Grissom, you received the papers. You're not supposed to call. You're not supposed to…"

He interrupted her. "Sara, how could you do this?"

"How could _I _do this? You were supposed to be my friend, Grissom. You helped us and led us to believe that you were doing this for us. And all along, you had some twisted, fucked up reason for wanting to help. I'm done with you, Grissom. We're done with you. You call again. You show up again. You try anything and there will be hell to pay. You signed away your rights. You…"

"I get it Sara. Don't worry. I'll never bother you again," he said as he closed the phone.

He showed up at his scene and like classic Grissom, he was emotionless. He processed the scene and returned to headquarters. As he walked toward his office, he saw Catherine in the hallway. He smiled at her and nodded his head in acknowledgement of the fact that she and Sara spoke several times a day and she was obviously aware that he had received the papers that they had drawn up by their lawyer. He continued through the corridors of crime lab dropping off evidence in Trace and DNA as he went along.

_One week later…_

"Sara? Sara? Sweetie, where are you?" Catherine called out as she put her things down in the living room.

"Catherine? Why are you home so early? Is something wrong?" Sara said as she came rushing down the stairs.

"I don't think anything is wrong. But I have something to tell you. And it couldn't wait. And actually, I'm done with work for the day. I go back in tomorrow." She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside, "Come on and sit down, sweetie."

Sara bent down and gave Cath a tame kiss before sitting on the couch beside her. "So, what's up? Why are you off for the rest of the day and why do you have to go in on your day off?"

"Have you heard anything from Grissom?" Catherine asked as she took Sara's hand in hers.

"Not since he called the day he was served," she confessed.

"So he called you that day? He gets the papers telling him to leave you…leave us…the fuck alone and his first reaction is to call you? That man…anyway, listen. Grissom is gone."

Sara's reply was simple. "Gone? What do you mean…gone? Where did he go?"

"Well, I don't know where he went. No one knows where he went. He evidently turned in his resignation last week. He didn't even give his full two week's notice."

"He resigned?"

"Yeah. Keep up here, Sara. There's more," Catherine said sarcastically. "My job is changing. I went from being CSI, to swing shift supervisor, to CSI, and now I'll be the dayshift supervisor. Ecklie is moving all sorts of people around now. Without Grissom there to protect _his team_, Ecklie sees this an opportunity to do whatever he wants. Thank goodness you left when you did or I'm sure he'd have fired your ass today."

"Gee, thanks, Catherine. So you're on days now. Great! This means that Lindsey will get to see more of you."

"You too, baby. With me being on days, it means we have our evenings together. We'll actually get to have some semblance of a life now."

Sara pulled Catherine closer. "I know that it's good for us, too. I just know how much Lindsey has missed you. I'm here, but I can't take her mom's place. This will be good for all of us."

"There's something else, too. Remember that cabin Grissom was always talking about?"

"The one that none of us ever saw?"

"Yeah, that one. Anyway, it has been deeded to us. Well, to us, Warrick, Tina, Nick, Sofia, and Greg."

"Why'd he do that?"

"I don't know. None of us do. You okay with all of this?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah, I suppose I will be. I mean, I just thought that he'd leave us alone. I never thought he'd up and quit and then move away. I wanted him to know Gibson, I just didn't want him playing _daddy._"

"I know, Sar. Look, I'm gonna go change and then we'll spend the day doing something." Catherine pushed herself off of the couch and headed upstairs, still fingering the letter addressed to Sara that Grissom had left for her. She decided not to give the letter to her. There was no need to keep letting him interfere. She tossed her jacket on the bed, her clothes on the floor and headed into the bathroom to shower.

When she came out, fifteen minutes later, wrapped only in a towel, Sara was sitting on the bed with the letter in one hand and two pictures in the other. Catherine froze out of uncertainty. "Catherine, is there anything you need to tell me?"

"Not that I can think of at this moment. Why?" She was fighting the urge to run over and yank the letter out of Sara's hands and wishing she had just run the damn letter and whatever else was in it through the shredder.

Sara stood up from the bed, crossed the room and threw the pictures in Catherine's face. "How about those? Care to tell me about those?"

Catherine bent down to pick the pictures up from the floor. She stood up and made eye contact with Sara and then looked down at the pictures in her hands. She knew right away why Sara was so infuriated. "Sara. Sweetie. These pictures…they're not what you're thinking they are."

"Really? And just what I believe they are?"

"You think it means that I'm seeing Sofia. But, I'm not. I swear I'm not."

"Then why is there a picture of the two of you hugging? And another picture of you two eating lunch? Catherine, I warned you and I warned her. I wasn't going to tolerate you cheating on me or even giving the appearance of cheating on me."

"Sara, I'm not cheating. There is nothing going on between me and Sofia. Those pictures are at least a year old. I haven't seen her in months."

"In months? Lying to me again? Don't you two work cases together?"

"Damn it, Sara. I'm talking about outside of work. Look at what I was wearing in that picture. I threw that shirt away after working that decomp case back in January? February? The smell wouldn't come out."

Sara sat back down on the bed and put her head in her hands and began to softly cry. "Catherine, I can't go through this again. I thought we had put this behind us." She sighed heavily. "Grissom sent these. He has a motive behind it. He's trying to ruin our relationship. I know that. I _know_ that. But he also knows what buttons to push. He knows how insecure I am."

"Sara, I made a promise to you the day you put this ring on my finger. I agreed to be yours and you agreed to be mine. I flirt…you knew that. And you have since made it very clear to me…and Sofia…that you don't want the two of flirting with one another. We don't. That was just two friends having lunch. I'm not going to stop being her friend—even though you demanded it. We went out after she lost the baby. They were having problems. He was blaming her for the miscarriage and she was feeling completely responsible. I was just trying to comfort her. You and I both know that there aren't a lot of women in the field we work in. Friendships with other women are limited. I was trying to comfort her. I hope that even **_you_** could understand that. What did his letter say?" Catherine asked as she handed the pictures back to her.

"It didn't say anything important. You get dressed. I'll be downstairs waiting." On her way down the stairs, Sara stopped in her office and ran the two pictures along with the letter from Grissom through the shredder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

He was gone. At least that's how it would seem. No one heard from Grissom. No one knew where he and his bugs had gone. He had vanished without a trace. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months and still no one had heard from him.

Four months after he had left, Sara came home and grabbed the mail out of the box on the curb as was her daily routine. She absent-mindedly flipped through the mail on her way into the house. She froze when she came across the plain brown envelope labeled simply with her name on it. The rest of the mail fell to the ground. She didn't immediately open it. Instead she kept walking toward the front door and sat down on the stoop. There was no postage or postage mark. There was no return address. There was only her name—_Sara Sidle_—written in a hauntingly familiar and distinct script.

CSI Sidle returned. _An otherwise nondescript envelope bearing nothing other than my name. I shouldn't open this. **But the only way to find out what's inside is to open it.** Do you remember a guy called the Unibomber? **Who would send me a letter bomb?** You should call Catherine. **Why would I bother her with something like this?** Because she's still a CSI. **What difference does that make?** She could make sure it is safe to open before you get blown to smithereens. **I'm not going to get blown up—it's just a letter. **How do you know that?** I just do.** You're going to do whatever you want to do anyway. **Would you just shut up?** Certainly, I can do that._

With the warring voices in her head now silent, Sara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she flipped the brown envelope over and opened it. She turned it upside down and dumped its contents into her lap.

There was no note—only a single photograph. Sara's breath hitched as she realized what she was seeing. The photograph was taken in Gibson's room. _That's his crib. That's Gibson in his crib. **He's been in our house. Oh shit!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

Sara sat and gathered her thoughts for a moment. There was no way she could tell Catherine about this. There was no way she was calling the police. Gil certainly wouldn't do anything to hurt her or her son. _Would he?_

She dismissed the idea that he would. She stood up, unsteadily, and walked into the yard to gather the mail that she had dropped. Just bills. _Figures, all we ever get are bills and the one time it's not a bill it's a picture intended to scare the shit out of me._

Sara opened the door to her house and entered, putting the bills on table by the door, before sitting down on the couch to figure out what to do. She flipped her phone open and dialed Greg's number.

"The one and only Greg Sanders. What can I do for you sexy?"

"Please tell me that is not how you answer your phone."

"Only when _you_ call, sexy," he said as he laughed. Despite the fact that she had married Catherine and had a child with her, Greg was a helpless flirt. In spite of herself, she enjoyed the flirting. It was innocent and meant nothing between the two.

"I need a favor, Greg. Are you off yet?"

"Nope. But I will be in about twenty minutes. I tell ya, that wife of yours is a real slave driver. Whiipissshhh! She totally cracks the whip on us."

"Hey, can you go easy on her? Anyway, I need you to help me change out the locks on the house and put some on the windows. Can you do that?"

"Sure, but why do you need all of the locks changed and why are you adding locks to the windows?"

Sara had to think fast. She couldn't be honest and just say that a former friend, colleague and father of her child had been in her house and had just sent her a picture proving that he had been. "Uh, stupid me. I lost my spare set of keys that I keep in my office at the school. They were missing for a few days, and POOF, they showed back up today. I don't want to run the risk of someone having taken them and copied. Besides, we've had these locks on this house for three years now. I'd say it's time for a change."

"Yeah, great. You already have everything?"

"No, I'm on my way to pick everything up that we need now. Wanna say we meet here around four?"

"Four is great. Shall I bring the beer?" he asked.

"I think this is a two packer. You do remember how many doors and windows we have, don't you?"

"Should I see if Nick can come along, too? Or is this just going to be one of our _girls nights out_?" Greg asked.

"I think the two of us can handle it. Catherine is supposed to go to a play at Lindsey's school. It'll just be you and me, Greggo."

"Oh! Me likes that sound of that!"

"You're incorrigible!" was all she said before hanging up.

A few hours and several beers later, Catherine, Lindsey and Gibson came home to find Sara and Greg in the den fiddling with the sliding glass door. "You two head up stairs and get ready for bed. Gib, mommy will be up in a few to tuck you in." She walked up to the friends and said, "Hey guys. Whatcha doin'?" She looked around the room at the empty beer bottles and boxes on the floor. "Sara, why are you two changing the locks on the doors?"

"Your little lady here lost a set of keys and then they magically reappeared. She's worried that some kid she's flunked might've stolen them and will come in during the middle night and make off with you," Greg said as he downed the last of his current beer and handed his bottle to Catherine.

"Greg, go home. I appreciate how much help you've been today. How many drinks have you had? Do I need to call you a cab?" Sara said to him.

He stood up and said, "I haven't had nearly as many you."

"Okay then, Greg. Let's get you a cab," Catherine said as she picked up the phone and called a taxi for Greg. "I'll wait with you while _Sara_ cleans up the rest of this mess." She shot an evil glare at Sara while she ushered Greg toward the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

Sara could tell instantly that Catherine didn't for one second believe the lie that Greg had tossed at her. First of all, Sara never misplaced or lost anything. **_NEVER._** And secondly, this was the kind of thing she would have done by herself without Greg's help. It probably would have taken her a couple of days doing it alone, but she would have managed.

Sara had to buy herself enough time to figure out what she was going to tell blue-eyed investigator when she joined her. As much as the two of them preached honesty to one another, this was one instance where Sara thought it would perhaps be better to withhold this information from Catherine. It would only serve to upset her. Besides, Sara was certain that Grissom would never do anything to endanger her family. He was just pissed off--**_really pissed off_**—about this whole situation.

But Grissom never had a key to their home. There was something about the picture that was bothering her. She pulled it out of her back pocket and looked at it again as she climbed the stairs to Gibson's room. She stood in the doorway and watched her little boy playing on the floor with toy truck. She scanned the room and then looked back down at the picture. The picture was of Gibson in his crib. He hadn't slept in a crib in about six months. He was now sleeping in his youth bed. That meant that the picture she was holding in her hand was taken before they had ever had papers served on Grissom. At least this meant that he hadn't been in their home recently.

She stuck the picture in her pocket again and walked over to her son. "Come on little man. It's time for bed."

Without saying a word, he walked over to the low bookcase that held his picture books and pulled one down and took it with him to bed. Sara took her cue. She ambled over to him and tucked him into bed before crawling alongside him. She envied the fact that Catherine could actually lie comfortably beside him on this bed. She couldn't. She always had to lie half on it and half off it.

Gibson lay against her as she started to read his favorite story, _Love You Forever_. Before she had reached the first chorus of, "I'll love you for always, I'll like you forever, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be," Gibson was sound asleep. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, tucked his dark locks behind his ears and turned off his bedside lamp before sitting herself down on the floor beside his bed and pulling her knees up to her chest. She was still sitting there, crying silent tears, when she felt her lover's hands on her shoulders. "Baby, let's go to bed. It's late. I do have to work tomorrow."

Sara allowed Catherine to take her hands and pull her to her feet. She soon felt herself being pulled into a warm embrace. "Do you two ever keep your hands to yourself? pause Never mind. I already know the answer to that. After all, I do sleep across the hall from you two," the teenager shot at them as she walked past her little brother's room.

"What is her problem?" Sara asked Catherine.

"Probably some boy. At her age, it's always some boy. Oh, by the way, she asked if it was okay for Lane to spend the weekend with her. I told her it was okay. We'll both be off. That is okay, isn't it?"

"Yeah, hun. That's fine. Which one is Lane again?"

"Oh Lane is her new best friend. You remember meeting her, don't you? The short brunette?"

"I can't place her. Wait a minute—is she the basketball or soccer player?"

"Neither, she's the cheerleader."

By now, both women had made their way to their bedroom and were getting ready for bed when Sara remembered that she still had the picture of Gibson in her pocket. "I'll be right back, Cat. I need to go ahead and put some papers in my briefcase for tomorrow. You know how I am in the mornings. If I don't do it now, I'll forget about it completely." With that, Sara set off toward her office. She went to her filing cabinet and found a file at the very back of a drawer. She looked at the picture one more time before tucking into the folder and returning to the open arms of her lover.

As she pulled on the boxers and tank top that she always slept in, she could feel Catherine's eyes on her. She settled into bed, leaving space between her and her wife. Catherine finally spoke up, "Alright, Sidle. Spill it. What is up with you tonight?"

"I'm just tired baby. It was a long day. And then, you know how I am when I drink."

"I'm glad you brought that up. I thought we had decided no drinking when Lindsey or Gibson was around. And tonight, I come home with them and we find you and Greg in the den drinking beers like frat brothers. What happened? You only pull this shit when something happens."

"Nothing happened, Cath. Let's just go to sleep." She lied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

The next day came and went. Many more did as well. Sara had managed not to tell Catherine about photograph. They went on with their daily lives as if nothing had ever happened. And for everyone except Sara, nothing had happened.

Sara was in her office at work when someone knocked on her door. "Come on in," she said to the figure on the other side of her door.

"Ms. Sidle, this was left for you with the department secretary. She asked me to give it to you since I have an appointment with you." The young woman extended a plain brown envelop toward her. She immediately flashed back to that day a month earlier when she came across a similar looking envelop in her mailbox. Her eyes focused on the brown envelop but she didn't take it.

"Ms. Sidle? Are you okay?" The young woman stepped closer to her and put her hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Sidle?"

"What? Huh?" She looked at her student and back at the envelop in her hand. "Casey, I don't think I'm going to be able to work with you today. Make an appointment with the secretary to come back another day. I'm sorry." Sara stood up and started to put her jacket on. "Just leave it on my desk. Thanks."

Sara grabbed her briefcase from the floor and put it on her desk. She looked once more at the brown envelop before picking it up and placing it in the briefcase. As she walked past the secretary, she told her that she had a family emergency come up and that she should cancel her classes for the rest of the day.

After finally reaching her SUV, she pulled out her cell phone and immediately dialed Greg's number. As always, she was met with, "The one and only Greg Sanders. What can I do for you sexy?"

"Greg, you're off today, right?"

"It's good to hear your voice, too. And to answer your question, yes, I'm lying here completely nude and thinking of all the things you never did to me—but still can do."

"Greg, I'd love to listen to you flirting with me, but I have a major problem. And I need your help. I don't know who else to ask."

The young man suddenly turned serious. "Sar, what's wrong? Did something happen to Catherine? Lindsey? Gibson?"

"No, not yet. Can I come over?"

"Yeah, come on over."

"I'll be up in a second. I'm in the parking lot right now."

"Damn woman, a little warning would be nice. Give me like two minutes. I need to throw some clothes on."

Two minutes later, he opened his door and there stood Sara Sidle. One look at her told him that something was wrong. He reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her into his apartment.

"Are you two fighting about me again? I don't know how many times I have to tell you that there is more than enough Greg to go around," he said to her trying to lighten the mood.

She just shook her head.

"Is this about you and Catherine? The only time I've ever seen you look like this was when you found out that something might be going on between her and Sofia. Shit! Is she cheating on you? I know it's not with Sofia. Is it Wendy? She checks Cath out all the time."

She just looked at Greg and couldn't say a word. Instead, she pulled her briefcase into her lap and opened it. She pulled out the brown envelop, closed her briefcase and sat the case back on the floor. She handed it to Greg.

"This is the second one I've received."

"What is it?" he asked her.

"Well, I haven't opened this one. The last one was a picture of Gibson asleep in his crib. Remember the day you helped me change **all ** the locks in the house?" He nodded at her question. "I received the first one that day."

"What did Catherine say?" As soon as he asked the question, he knew she hadn't told her. "Sara, you should have told Catherine. She could have found out who sent this."

"I don't need her to find out who sent it. I know who it is." She looked at Greg. He looked down at the writing on the envelop in his hands and back into her eyes. In unison, they both said, "Grissom."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

"What's in it?" he asked her.

"I haven't opened it yet. I'm afraid to open it."

He took the envelope and put it on his table. He took out an Exacto knife and opened the envelope. Sara was watching over his shoulder, trying to decide if she should stand with her arms crossing her chest or with her hands on her hips. He turned the envelope upside down and dumped its contents on the table. It was simply another picture.

He picked it up and handed it to her. "Sara, you have to tell Catherine about this. There's no way you _can't_ tell her now. That's Lindsey in the picture with Gibson."

She walked back over and sat on the couch, still holding the picture. She hadn't said a word since he opened the envelope. Her eyes had not left the picture in her grasp. It was a picture of Lindsey and Gibson. They were in the pool in the backyard.

"Why is he doing this?" she broke down in tears.

"Sar, first of all, are you certain that it's him?" Greg was trying to remain reasonable. "The envelope is plain and could have been purchased anywhere. There isn't a return address or anything else that can help us determine where it came from. As a matter-of-fact, the only thing that is unique about this envelope is the fact that it has your name on it and a picture of your kids in it."

"That's Grissom's handwriting. I _know_ it is. Greg, why is he so fucking determined to creep me out? This is just getting fucking weird. First he sends a picture of my son—in his crib. And now he sends one of my son and daughter playing in the pool."

"Can you tell when this picture was taken?"

"What difference does that make?" She studied the picture a bit longer. "Well, they were in the pool. It was obviously taken during the summer—look how tan Lindsey is. It was probably late summer. I'd guess probably late August or early September."

"And the other picture was of Gibson in his crib? When we put that lock on his window, I noticed he didn't have a crib any longer. So when do you think that one was taken?"

"He's been in his youth bed since he turned two. So, what? Seven months now?"

"Maybe he took all of these before he left town. Can I ask you something, Sar?" He waited for her to agree. When she didn't say anything, he took her silence as his cue to go ahead and ask. "Is Grissom Gibson's father?"

She didn't say a word. She started crying. He pulled her into a hug. "Sar, he knows that he's the father right?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that? Do you think I went off and slept with him after I married Cath? Yes. He knows. He agreed to help us. I was artificially inseminated. Greg, no one but Catherine, Grissom, our lawyer and I know about this. You have to promise to keep your mouth shut." He made a zipping motion across his lips and tossed the fake key over his shoulder. She smiled at his childlike action and continued. "He signed over his parental rights both before and after the delivery. We were very clear when we approached him that we didn't want him acting as a father to our child in any sort of way. He was okay with it until he had spent some time with Gibson. Then he wanted to start playing _daddy._ After he showed up at the house one night demanding to see Gibson, I went to our lawyer. We had a TRO filed on him and he was ordered to cease and desist his attempts to contact us or Gibson. That's when he resigned."

"Whoa! So Grissom left because you told him to leave you and the kid the fuck alone? I would have happily put a bun in the oven and wouldn't have asked to play daddy if you had wanted it."

"Thanks Greg. If we decide we want to have another, you'll be on our list." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm and she put forward the fakest smile she could muster. "The day that Cath came home and told me about him leaving, she brought home an envelope with a letter and two pictures in it." He looked at her like he was waiting for the punch line of a really funny joke. "The pictures were of Sofia and Catherine."

"Holy shit! I knew the two of them were doing it! Does Nick know? Wait, why would Grissom give you pictures of your wife with some other woman?"

"First of all, Catherine and Sofia are not having an affair. Nick doesn't know since there isn't anything for him to know about. And Grissom sent them to me because he thought it would end my relation--my marriage—to Catherine. It seems that although we believed his motive in helping us conceive Gibson was just that of a loyal friend, his real interest was in being permanently tied to me through our child."

"Sara, you seriously have to tell Catherine about this." He was genuinely concerned about his friends and their children. "What if he's not as harmless as you think he is? Have you even considered that?"

"Greg, I appreciate your concern. I really do. I…uh, I don't think I'm going to tell Catherine yet. Those were old pictures. It's not like he's sent anything to indicate that he's still around and _watching_."

"I think you meant to say stalking. And I'm telling you, if you don't tell her, eventually I will. And we both know that puts you in the doghouse."

"Just give me some time to figure it out. Our anniversary is next week. You're babysitting, remember?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

Sara left Greg's apartment and stopped off at a bar on her way home. Since Catherine had conveniently chastised her like she was a child the last time she drank at home, she'd drink in the company of strangers.

She parked and entered the dimly lit, smoky bar. There were very few people here, but that was the way she liked it. There was a hard, steady beat being put down by whoever the DJ was. If Cath was here with her, she would definitely be on the floor with their bodies moving to the music. Cath may be almost fifty years old, but the woman still knew how to move. Sara had been extremely lucky to be on the receiving end of more than one of her "dances."

But tonight, she wouldn't be so lucky. No, tonight she was sitting in this bar alone, determined to put some distance between her and her thoughts.

She moved to an empty stool at the bar and pulled off her leather jacket as she sat down. The bartender walked over. "I haven't seen you in here in forever. What are you drinking these days?"

"You're right. It's been a while, Luce. I'll, uh, have a beer." The long-legged bartender came back with her beer and Sara asked her, "You have any cigarettes back there? I'm dying for a smoke, too."

"What brand?"

"Whatever you have will do. Can't drink and not smoke. I think that's in the lesbian handbook somewhere."

The bartender laughed at Sara's joke before quipping, "Nah. Not the lesbian handbook. I think it's on one of the stall doors back in the restroom."

"Can't say I've ever done much reading when I'm in a restroom stall."

"I can't say anyone that ever comes in here and _uses_ the restroom here does much reading, sexy."

Sara blushed both at the comment and the memory of the things she had done in that restroom. She turned around to do a little 'people watching.' It had been one of her favorite things to do when she went to a bar. When she was single, picking up women had never been her forte. She found that if she sat back and waited and watched, the women would come to her. That had always been her MO. Sit and wait. It had never failed her. The added bonus was that she didn't have to worry about rejection if she was just sitting and waiting.

So, here sat Sara Sidle, in a bar mostly frequented by lesbians off the strip. She was on her third beer when her cell phone started vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the name on the caller ID. _Cath_. She flipped the phone open and said, "Sidle."

"Sweetie, where are you? I tried the school and they said you cancelled your classes and headed home because you had a family emergency. Are you okay? Is Gibson?"

"I'm fine babe. I just needed the break away from work today."

She could hear the annoyance in Catherine's voice when she started speaking, "A break? A break from what? Sara, is that music I hear? Where. Are. You?"

Sara sighed heavily. She knew Catherine would be pissed when she found out where she was. "I'm with Greg." She lied.

"You're with Greg? Right now? At this very moment?" From her tone, Sara knew that she was busted.

"No, not right this moment. I was with him. Earlier. Today." She stammered trying to give the correct answer.

"Uh, which is it, Sara? You're with him now or you were with him earlier?"

"You obviously already know the answer to that or you wouldn't be pressing so hard. I'm at a bar. I'm at Labyris."

"What are you doing at that..that..that place? Do you realize what sort of reputation that place has? That bar makes the damn strip joints look like nunneries."

Sara couldn't help be laugh at haughty Catherine was being regarding her choice in bars. "Funny. I used to come here all of the time before you worked your way into my bed. ….No, I'm fine, thanks. I don't really want to dance."

"Are you with someone there?" Catherine was getting angrier and angrier.

"No, sweetheart. I'm not with anyone. Can I help it if a few women find me irresistible?"

"You better get your irresistible ass home. Now! And those WOMEN better not touch the merchandise."

"How about you come over here and join me? We haven't been out together in forever, Cath?"

"Sara, some of us have to work in the morning and can't afford to not be at our best. Now, get home."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a little while. I've been drinking. You don't want me to get a DUI, do you?"

"Fine, sober up and get home. And Sara?"

"I love you, too, Cath." Sara closed the phone, put it back in her pocket and motioned for the bartender.

"I need a coffee. Black."

While she waiting on her coffee, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to find out who it was attached to. "Leslie?" Sara stood up from her stool and wrapped her arms around the woman in front of her. "I haven't seen you in years. How are you?"

"It's been three..four years? You look good, Sidle." She pulled back from the hug and looked Sara up and down. "Really good."

The two sat at the bar and caught up on old times. Sara talked about her marriage to Catherine, their kids, and her career change. And then, THE song came on. Leslie's entire face perked up as soon as she heard the familiar beat. "Sara, we have to dance to this."

"No. No. NO! Catherine would kill me if she even knew I was sitting here with you. She told me to sober up and head home and that was," she looked down at her watch, "two hours ago."

Leslie wasn't about to take no for an answer. She grabbed Sara's hands and pulled her off of the stool toward the dance floor. "This used to be our song, Sidle. Don't tell me that you've forgotten how to dance." She put her back against Sara's front and slid her arms up around Sara's neck. Sara remained stone-still until Leslie started grinding against her to the rhythm of the music. No one could have resisted the urge to put their hands on her hips to hang on for the ride. As soon as the song was over, Leslie spun in her arms and gave her a very chaste kiss on the cheek before they returned to their seats at the bar.

Neither of them noticed the person in the corner of the bar taking photos of them with a camera phone.

A few minutes later, as Leslie's girlfriend joined the two of them, Sara made promises to be in touch and slid her jacket on. On her way out of the bar, she called Catherine and informed her that she was on her way home.

The events of the evening were definitely something she was **not **going to share with Catherine. She hated keeping secrets from her wife, but the last thing she wanted to do was tell her that an ex girlfriend was grinding her ass against her on the dance floor. The only ass that was ever supposed to touch Sara was the ample one that belonged to Catherine.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

Sara was expecting all hell to break loose when she finally made it home. But it didn't. She pulled into the driveway and found the house completely devoid of light.

She walked inside and straight up the stairs to the shower. She knew that Catherine would kill her if she came to bed smelling like smoke. She wasn't supposed to smoke. She wasn't supposed to drink. _Come to think of it, what can I do? Or better yet, what does Catherine allow me to do?_

She slipped into a pair of boxers and a tank top before sliding into bed next to Catherine. As soon as her lithe figure was under the covers, the fiery strawberry blonde slid over and cuddled up to her.

"Finally decided to come home?"

"I had a few beers. I wanted to make sure I was completely sober before heading home. Nothing says you've fucked up quite like a DUI." Sara wrapped her arm around Catherine and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"As a matter of fact, you haven't. I think you should," Catherine said to her as Sara rolled over and covered her body with her own.

"I've always found that actions speak louder than words. Why don't I show you how much I love you?" Sara said huskily as she lowered her mouth to Catherine's.

Sara started a slow and steady pace, barely kissing Catherine but moving her hands slowly across the taut stomach of the former dancer before moving up toward her chest. Catherine noticed that Sara's movements were becoming slower and slower until they stopped. She was about to say Sara's name when she heard the brunette start to lightly snore.

Catherine pushed Sara off of her, waking her up. "What? Where are you going baby? I was going to make love to you?"

Catherine stood up and turned on her bedside lamp. "When were you going to do that Sara? After you took a nap? Or after you drooled all over me?" She grabbed a pillow and headed for the couch. Catherine found nothing more frustrating than being worked up and then left to cool off.

The next morning, much to Sara's dismay, there would be hell to pay. Sara was sprawled across the bed doing her best dead cowboy impersonation. The sheets were barely covering her and she had managed to pull off her tank top sometime during her sleep. Normally, Catherine would have found this incredibly sexy. This morning, she only found it exceedingly annoying. She walked over to the windows and pulled the curtains back, letting the sunlight bathe the room in tones of gold and orange. She then walked to the side of the bed where Sara's head was and poured the glass of ice water she was holding on Sara's face and across her chest.

The brunette shot up in bed like she was being fired from a cannon. "What the fuck!"

Catherine sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the room. "Good to see that you're awake, Sleeping Beauty."

"Catherine, why the fuck did you pour ice water on me? What the hell has gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me? Do you remember what you started last night?"

A smile played at Sara's lips. "Was it good for you, baby?"

"Good for me? Good for me?" Catherine stood and crossed the room nearing the bed. She had one hand on her hip and the other had a finger pointed straight at Sara. "You came in here, climbed in bed and got me all worked up. I thought you were trying to tease me because you were moving so slowly. Then you just stopped. I was about to say your name when you started snoring!!!" Sara started to giggle. "This is not funny! I had to push you off of me. I was so furious I slept on the couch."

"You mean you didn't sleep with me last night?"

"It's not like you noticed, is it? I want to know what is wrong with you, Sara. You went to a bar last night. A BAR! And you obviously had a decent amount to drink before you came home because you fell asleep on top of me. This is your chance. You tell me what's going on now. It will not be good news for you if I find out on my own."

Sara stood there, naked from the waist up and completely soaked. Here was her opportunity. She could come clean with Catherine and tell her about the two envelopes she had received. "Nothing is going on babe. I just needed to unwind. I'm sorry about last night. Don't forget, our anniversary is next week. I'll make it up to you then."

"You sure as hell better!" Catherine said as she left the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

Greg had shown up on time—for once. Catherine and Sara were rushing to make it to the hotel before their room was released.

"I don't know why Greg has to stay here and babysit. I'm perfectly capable of looking after Gibson myself."

"We've been through this before, Lindsey. We're just more comfortable knowing that there's an adult here," Catherine said back to her.

"Yeah, even if it is only Greg," Sara stuck her tongue out at Greg after making this last comment. "Cath, baby, we have to go if we're going to make our reservation."

With that, the two women walked out hand in hand. Sara walked Catherine to her side of the truck and opened the door for her, shutting it behind her. She opened the trunk of the truck and threw in their overnight bag. As she reached her side, she looked back at the house and waved knowing that Greg and Lindsey were standing at the door watching them leave.

The drive to the restaurant was relatively quiet. Quiet except for the quiet moans coming from Sara as Catherine kissed her neck and nibbled on her earlobe. And with some of the things that Catherine was whispering in Sara's ear, the brunette was surprised that they made it to the hotel at all.

Sara dropped Catherine off at the door and decided to park the truck herself. She had never been one to believe in valet parking. She parked, grabbed the bag out of the trunk and made her way to the lobby to join Catherine.

She ambled in and stood looking around for Catherine. She felt a hand move across her ass and turned to kill the dumbass who had dared to touch her. Her murderous intentions faded as soon as she saw that the offender was Catherine. "Took you long enough, babe. Did you have to park in Henderson and walk here?"

"Very funny," Sara said as she took Catherine's hand in hers. "Did you get our room?"

"I did more than get us a room, babe. We have the penthouse tonight."

"Cath, we can't afford that. We agreed. A room. A simple room. Nothing more since we were going to do room service," Sara argued even though she knew it was useless.

"It's okay, Sara. It didn't cost me anymore than a regular room," she told her wife as she winked at the older man standing in the entrance to the casino.

"You let Sam pay for our room?"

"I didn't let Sam pay for anything. The room is comped. Everything is comped. Don't make a big deal out of this, Sar. Just let it go. Let's go upstairs and enjoy our anniversary. Please?"

"Fine, let's go. I think I have a promise to keep tonight," Sara flashed an wicked grin at Catherine.

"You can have your way with me after we have dinner. I'm famished."

"Whatever. Let's go eat and then I'll have dessert."

Hand in hand, they made their way to the elevator and up to the penthouse. Neither had noticed the familiar figure sitting in a chair not ten feet from the entrance of the hotel.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

They had made it to their room and enjoyed a lovely dinner. Sara had called room service and had asked them to deliver a bottle of champagne and fresh strawberries. They had shared this dessert each anniversary. And this was their fifth one.

"Cath, would you get the door? I want to call Greg and check on the kids."

Sara walked into the bedroom and picked up the phone. She dialed the house and of course, it was busy. _Lindsey._ Next, she tried Greg's number. And he answered it in typical Greg Sanders fashion, "The one and only Greg Sanders. What can I do for you sexy?"

For once, Sara was going to play along. "Hey baby. Is that the best you can come up with to describe me? Sexy? How about scrumptious? How about hot? How about the woman of your dreams?"

"I, uh, I…Hey, Sara. Wassup?"

She had to fight the desire to laugh. "I was calling to check on the kids. Are they okay?"

"Of course. Gibson and I are sitting here watching television and Linds is upstairs on the phone."

She continued to sit there and talk with Greg for a few minutes, giving him last minute instructions about how to care for Gibson.

After she hung up, she stripped her clothes off and pulled on one of the robes in their room. She lit the candles she had brought from home and stepped into the other room.

_Meanwhile, in the other room—while Sara was on the phone_…

As Sara walked out of the room to call and check on the kids, Catherine made her way to the penthouse door. She looked through the peephole and saw someone dressed in a hotel uniform. She opened the door and the young man pushed a cart into the room that had a bottle of champagne, two champagne flutes and a pile of the most divine strawberries Catherine had ever seen. Her mouth started to water just looking at them. "You can just put that over there. We're done with the other cart. You can take it now."

As the young man was wheeling the cart of empty dishes out of the room, he suddenly turned around. "I'm sorry Ms. Willows. I forgot I was supposed to give you this." He took out a plain brown envelope and handed it to her.

She walked over to the couch and sat down on it. The only thing on the envelope was her name. _Why does this handwriting look familiar?_

She slowly opened the envelope and looked inside. After seeing that it only contained pictures, she turned it upside and dumped the photos into her lap. She sat the envelope down and picked the pictures up.

Her world turned upside down and she couldn't breathe when she saw what…or better yet, who…the pictures were of.

There were five pictures in the envelope. The first was of Sara and Sophia at lunch. The second was of Gibson in his crib asleep. The third was of Lindsey and Gibson in the pool. The last two were of Sara and some woman. They were in a bar. One had Sara with her hands on this woman's hips. They were obviously dancing. She was having a hard time breathing. Tears began to roll down her face as she looked at the second photo. It had the woman facing Sara. Sara's arms around her. And the woman was kissing her. "How…how…. could she?" she whispered so low, even she could barely hear it.

Catherine immediately dropped the photos on the table in front of her. She grabbed her purse and ran out of the room.

Sara made her way into the main room of the penthouse only to find it empty. "Cath? Baby? Where are you?"

She looked around the room and saw no trace of Catherine—including the hulk of a purse that she always insisted on carrying whenever they went everywhere.

She walked toward the couch thinking that maybe Cath had decided to lie down. She wasn't there. But as she turned to walk back to the room and change into her clothes, her attention was immediately drawn to the table. There was a brown envelope and several pictures on top of it.

"Oh. Fuck."


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

It took Sara several minutes to blow out every candle in the hotel room and change into her clothes. She grabbed the photos off the table and her keys and ran out of the room.

She first tried Catherine's cell phone. It was going straight to voice mail. Next she tried the house. Their phone was busy. Then she tried Greg's cell. It rang several times before he ever picked up. "Greggo's House of Kids. Today's specials are…"

"Greg, shut up and listen. Has Catherine called you?"

"Why would she call me? It's your anniversary. I mean, I'm flattered and all, but I don't want to be the one to bring you guys back over to this team. You're obviously happy tog…"

"Someone delivered copies of the pictures to her!"

"What pic…oh shit! Who would do that?"

"Who do you think, Greg? I figured she'd head home. Greg, there was a picture of me and Leslie."

"Whoa!!! That really hot…"

"Yes, that Leslie. Two pictures actually. One of us dancing and one where she was kissing me…but it was on the cheek."

"You are in so much fucking trouble."

Sara could hear the other voice in the background speak up, "Yes, she is in trouble. Now hang up the phone, Greg."

"Greg, is she…"

The line went dead before Sara could finish asking or before Greg could possibly answer.

The cab pulled up in front of their house and Sara breathed a sigh of relief seeing their truck parked in the driveway. Greg's car was still here as well. She couldn't help but think to herself, _Thank goodness Greg is still here. She won't kill me with a witness._

She unsteadily, but cautiously, walked into the house, unsure of what she would encounter. Silence. The house was filled with it. She closed the door behind herself and Greg came running towards her.

"She's upstairs. I really think she's pissed. Sara, just what was in those pictures? She came back here saying something about a _lying bitch_—which I assume is you—and some skanky whore—which I assume is Leslie. There was even something about a three-timing slut—which I assume is Sofia. She didn't even seem to realize what was in the other pictures. The ones you told me about me. You have got some major damage control here, sister."

"Greg, take the kids. Go get 'em pizza, ice cream. Take 'em back to your place. Be careful. Just get them out of here. This isn't going to be pretty."

"Sure thing, boss." He quietly ran up the stairs to collect the kids and their things for a night away from home.

A few minutes later he was coming back downstairs with the kids in tow. Sara gave Gibson a kiss on the forehead and pulled Lindsey into a hug. "Be good for Greg, okay?"

She nodded but asked, "Why is mom so mad? I heard her on the phone telling whoever she was talking to that this was the last straw. What did you do now, Sara?"

"Lindsey, just go with Greg. Everything will be fine."

Sara closed and locked the door behind them before checking every door and window to make sure they were locked. She reluctantly headed upstairs to face Catherine's wrath.

Their bedroom door was shut. It was locked. _Fuck, _Sara thought to herself. She went back downstairs to look through the junk drawer for the key to the door. Sara had insisted on putting them on the frame above the door. Catherine had insisted that they go in a drawer in the kitchen. Of course, Catherine had won.

She was just starting up the stairs again when something caught her eye. Normally, she never would have paid attention to the spot on the ceiling where the smoke detector was, but something in the way light was striking it at that moment caused a reflection. She pocketed the key to unlock their bedroom door and went back downstairs to retrieve the step-ladder.

Making her way back up the stairs with the unwieldy ladder, Sara placed it under the detector and climbed the steps. A flashlight was clinched between her teeth. She couldn't really tell anything without pulling the detector down, but she didn't want to destroy any evidence.

"Catherine, I need you. Please come out here." No response.

"Catherine, get your ass out here now!" Talking to Catherine like that would certainly garner some sort of response.

The bedroom door flung open and Catherine stormed out and nearly bumped into the ladder. "Sara, what the fuck are doing up there?"

"Get some gloves and the kit you keep downstairs."

"Sara, I'm not in the mood for one of your sex games right now. I'm pissed with you. No, I'm infuriated with you."

"Catherine, this isn't about sex. Get the damn gloves and kit—NOW!"

"Sar—"

"Someone is spying on us. I think there's a camera in this detector. Now GO. GET. THE. KIT."

"What are you talking ab—"

"Catherine, quit asking questions and go and get the damn kit!"

She walked away and came back minutes later with gloves on and kit in hand. "Get down from there. You can't touch the evidence—if there is any."

Sara reluctantly climbed backwards down the ladder and held it for Catherine to ascend. She carefully removed the smoke detector and shone her flashlight into the area it had once occupied. She cautiously pinched something between her fingers and tugged on it.

"You were right. Grab a couple of evidence bags for me." Sara looked through the kit and handed her two bags.

As Catherine came down the ladder, her expression had changed from that of anger to that of worry. "Sara, what the hell is going on around here?"

"I'll tell you all about it. But first, let's get a couple of guys over here to go through the house."

Three hours later, Greg, Warrick, and Archie were leaving the house with half a dozen more cameras and several audio bugs.

"Don't worry, Cath. We'll get these dusted and processed," Warrick said as he walked out the door.

That left Sara and Catherine alone in the house again. "Sara, tell me what is going on here. You obviously know more than I do."

"They're not going to find any prints or anything else on the stuff they took away."

"How can you be sure? Every one screws up. Whoever this is left a part of themselves on the evidence. You know it works that way."

"That's how it's supposed to work. We both know that. But in this case, they won't find anything. The guy we're dealing with is smarter than all of us—combined."

"Sara? Who?"

Sara pulled out the envelope that Catherine had discarded at the hotel. "Look at the handwriting. Is it familiar?"

Catherine studied it for a moment before looking at Sara with a puzzled look on her face. "This can't be."

"Who else would it be?"

"Why would he do this?"

"Cath, the pictures—the first one was of Gibson. Next, I got one with Lindsey and him in the pool. Not to mention the ones he sent of you and Sofia together that started that huge fight."

Anger flashed in Catherine's eyes. "Wait a minute. You've seen some of these photos before?" She turned to walk up the stairs. "I can't believe you, Sara. This clearly demonstrated that whoever was sending this was unstable and you did nothing? NOTHING?"

"That's not true. Greg and I changed all the locks. We even added them to the windows."

"A lot of good that did," she said as she motioned to the holes in the ceiling where smoke detectors once were. "He was already in here! And that woman—the one in the pictures with you—have you been cheating on me?" Catherine was on the verge of tears.

"Cath, baby, I've never cheated on you and I never will. That was the night I was at the bar," Sara was about to open a can of worms with her next confession. "She's an ex. We danced and she kissed me on the cheek. Nothing else happened. Someone was obviously watching me."

"This happened in the bar?"

"Yeah," Sara confessed.

"What? Did he follow you in there? A man would have stuck out like a sore thumb in that dyke dive that you like to go to."

Sara realized Catherine was right. She would have noticed a man in that bar—even as drunk as she was. But a woman—a woman would have gone unnoticed in a bar full of women.

"Cath, what if it's not Grissom?"

Catherine offered another theory. "What if he's not working alone?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I wanted to finish "Paging Sara Sidle," and since then, my muse seems to have taken a vacation—and the bitch wouldn't take me with her ;-)

"Cath, what if it's not Grissom?"

Catherine offered another theory. "What if he's not working alone?"

"What do you mean?" Sara asked as she sat down on the landing at the top of the stairs beside Catherine.

"Think about it, Sar. The handwriting is Grissom's—I'll give you that. But does any of this really scream 'Grissom' to you? Does this really seem like something he would do?" She asked as she waved her hand in the direction of the hole in the ceiling above their heads.

"I don't put anything past him. The man was supposed to be our friend—supposedly understood our terms for having Gibson. And then he suddenly changes his mind. The Grissom we were dealing with before he left was not the Grissom we knew before we had Gibson."

Catherine sank down on the steps in front of Sara. "What are we going to do?"

Sara wrapped her arms around Catherine and pulled her against her body. "I don't know. I don't have a clue."

"If you don't know, then we're definitely screwed. You know _everything._"

"Well," Sara started, "it's nice to see that you haven't lost your sense of humor." She gave her wife a light slap on the arm. "And I do not know everything. I know _almost_ everything, but definitely not _every_thing."

"Seriously, Sar, what are we going to do? We have no idea who planted these cameras in our house. We don't know who's been in our house. I don't feel safe here," Catherine said as she protectively began to run her hands up and down her own arms.

"I think we need to find Grissom," Sara said as she pushed herself up from the stairs and walked toward their bedroom.

Catherine sat there a moment longer, stunned by Sara's idea before nearly falling down the stairs because she was trying to get up so quickly.

"What do you mean we need to find Grissom?" Although a diminutive woman in stature, Catherine could be an imposing figure when it was necessary. Sara didn't turn around. She was busy throwing clothes into a suitcase. "Sara, I'll ask you once again. What do you mean we need to find Grissom? Do you really think finding that sonofabitch will make this problem go away?"

Sara turned around to face Catherine, her tears now clearly visible. "I don't know if it will make the problem go away. I don't know anything right now except that I'm scared, pissed and angry. And the only person I can think of right now that might be able to put an end to this bullshit is Grissom." Sara reached up and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "We can't stay here right now. You need to pack a bag, too. We'll go back to the hotel after we pick the kids up from Greg's place."

Wordlessly, Catherine grabbed a suitcase and left to pack the kids' clothes.

Once she was certain that Catherine was out of earshot, Sara pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number she had hoped she'd never have to dial again. After ringing several times, the voice mail picked up. "This is Gil Grissom. Please leave a message." The beep sounded and Sara stood there, unable to say anything. She finally ended the call by closing her phone.

_Early the next morning…_

"Sara, what are you doing?" Catherine asked as she took note of her wife getting hurriedly getting dressed.

Sara shoved her keys and cell phone in her jeans pocket and slid her jacket on. "I'm going to drive up to facility where Grissom's mother is. I figure if anyone knows where Grissom is, it's her."

"Sweetie, why can't we just wait for the guys to run his social and credit cards to see where he is? Come back to bed. I don't want you running all over the place when we're still not sure who is behind all of this." Catherine's reasoning was sound, but Sara wasn't going to be deterred.

She sat down on the bed with her back to Catherine. "I can't sit around here and do nothing. You deal with the police and do the background, social and credit cards. I'll go deal with the human element."

"Sar, you do realize his mom is deaf, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you know sign language?"

Sara's shoulder's dropped. "No. But surely someone there knows sign language. I mean, how else would they communicate with her?"

"I guess you're right. Just be careful, sweetie." With that, Catherine sat up and passionately kissed Sara. "You know how much I love you, right sweetie?"

She returned the kiss, hungrily sucking on Catherine's bottom lip, before leaning her forehead against Cath's. "I sure do. I'll be back later today. If you find anything out, call me. I'll do the same."

Sara took the elevator to the lobby and had the valet go and retrieve her car. She was so busy planning how she was going to deal with Grissom's mother that she didn't take notice of the darkly clad individual who was studying her every move. And she was so busy driving that she didn't notice the vehicle pull out behind her and follow her onto the interstate.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

Sara was well aware of the fact that Grissom cared deeply for his mother. Whenever possible, he made the two hour trek to visit her in the nursing home he had placed her in years ago. She was certain that if anyone knew where Grissom was, it would be his mother.

As she pulled into an empty space outside of the facility, she once again failed to notice the truck that had been following her since she left Vegas. It pulled into a distant parking space in the mostly empty lot.

Sara exited the vehicle and entered the front door of Stoney Creek Manor. She was quickly greeted by a nurse at the front desk. "May I help you?"

"Uh, yes. I'm Sara Sidle and I'm here to see Ms. Loyola Grissom." Sara smiled warmly, hoping that she wouldn't have to explain in great detail just who she was or what her relationship to Grissom's mother was.

"Is she expecting you?"

"No, she isn't. Is that a problem?" Sara was growing paranoid, but trying at the same time, to maintain her confidence.

"Oh, no ma'am. It's no problem at all. Do you know sign language or will you need assistance?"

"I'll need assistance unless she can write."

"No, her arthritis has gotten pretty bad. It's even difficult for her to sign some days." The nurse picked up a phone and announced to the individual on the other end that there was a visitor for Loyola Grissom. She smiled at Sara as she listened to the other person speak. As she hung the phone up she said, "One of our nurses who knows sign language will be here in a moment to escort you to her room and help you during your visit."

Sara thought to herself, _okay, that was easier than I expected. I hope the rest of the visit goes as smoothly._

After a few minutes of waiting, an older woman appeared and extended her hand in Sara's direction. "Ms. Sidle, I'm Helena Bettis. I'll take you to Ms. Grissom's room and help you with the sign language."

Sara shook her hand firmly and merely said, "Thanks."

As they slowed down outside a room that was apparently occupied by the elder Grissom, Sara turned to the nurse and said, "Would you mind giving me some time alone with her? I'd like to see her without anyone else around."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. We have instructions not to leave Ms. Grissom alone with visitors unless it's her son, Gil. I'm afraid I'll have to stay with you even if I don't interpret what is being said for you." With that, she pushed the door open to Grissom's mother's room and she and Sara both entered.

An elderly white haired woman looked up and locked eyes with Sara. Her expression changed immediately and she began to furiously sign. Sara looked from Ms. Grissom to the nurse that was standing at her side and took note of the blush creeping into the nurse's face.

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" The nurse said.

Sara turned back to focus her attention on the woman. "I need to know where Grissom is. I figure you would know. Have you seen him lately? Received any communications from him lately?"

Once again the woman began to sign. Sara's eyes never left hers. She waited for her interpreter to tell her what the woman was saying. "I have seen Grissom lately. What I haven't seen is my grandson. And Grissom says he hasn't seen his son, either."

Sara hung her head, hoping to hide her anger. "You'll never see Gibson—and neither will Grissom. He broke the rules. He signed away his rights. He…" Sara quit talking when she noticed the other woman beginning to sign again.

"Oh my!" Sara turned to look at the nurse who was interpreting the sign language for her. "I don't think I'm comfortable using the language she just used. She basically said that you were stupid for ever thinking her son would walk away so easily from his son. And I'm pretty sure she was threatening you. She said that since the pictures hadn't worked to show you how close he could get to Gibson, you should be careful because you never know what a genius with nothing but time and nearly unlimited resources could do—and will do."

Sara turned back towards the older woman and took several steps toward her. "You rotten old bitch! You're as psychotic as your son. I guess he inherited that from you just like he inherited his hearing problem. For your sake—and his—I hope he's smart enough to stay the fuck away from me and my family." With that Sara turned and quickly exited the room.

She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders as she climbed into her truck. She had been on the road back towards Vegas when she noticed a truck following her too closely. She pulled out her cell and dialed Catherine's number, wanting to fill her in on what had happened at the nursing home. Just as Catherine answered the phone, Sara felt her own truck suddenly lurch forward, causing her phone to fly from her hand. "What the fuck?" she said as she looked in the mirror, noticing the truck that had been following her was no longer behind her. Instead, it was moving along side her. Just as she was about to hit the brakes, the truck hit her rear quarter panel, sending the top-heavy truck sideways. Sara struggled to maintain control of her truck, but was unsuccessful. The truck flipped and careened off the highway and flipped again before coming to rest once again on its tires.

Sara was slumped over the console in the truck, blood oozing from a gash to her forehead. She turned her head and saw the blurry outline of a bearded man before the world suddenly went black.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** see chapter one

Sara awoke some time later in a brightly lit room to the very distinct sounds that one can only associate with a hospital.

She opened her mouth several times in an effort to speak, but nothing came out. She could vaguely make out the sound of a heart monitor in the background. The beeping was steadily increasing. She tried to move her head to the side, but was stopped short by the collar around her neck. She tried to move her limbs, but was immediately stopped by arms pressing her down. Sara began to panic.

Almost immediately, a blurry face came into view overhead. "Ma'am. Ma'am. You need to calm down. Let us do our job."

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply but was hit with sudden pain. Opening her eyes, Sara spoke very hoarsely. "Where am I?" She relaxed under the grip of the nurse.

"You're at Summerlin Hospital . You were in a car accident," the nurse explained to her.

An hour later, Sara was in a room resting when the door suddenly swung open.

"Sara!" Cath dropped her bag on the floor and rushed to her wife's bedside. "What happened, baby?"

Before Sara could explain the events of the last few hours, her doctor came in.

"Ms. Sidle, you're one lucky lady," the doctor began as Catherine fussed over Sara, fluffing her pillows and pulling the blanket up on her. "You've suffered green-twig fractures to three ribs. You had a dislocated shoulder and a nasty contusion to your head." This last part resulted in Sara reaching up to touch her head and immediately flinching when she touched the rather large slice on her forehead.

Catherine stepped forward and began speaking, "When can I take her home?"

"Well, I'd really like to see us keep her in the hospital overnight because of the bump on the head she took. You can never be too careful with head injuries."

"What if I want to leave now?" She was a self-admitted hater of hospitals and it seemed like at every turn, she was in one. She had thought that leaving CSI would have meant that she spent less time in hospitals. That hadn't been in the case. "I can sign out AMA, right?"

The doctor nodded. "What's the rush, Ms. Sidle? Staying in the hospital overnight would be prudent in this case."

Sara sat up in bed and threw her legs over the side. Once Catherine realized what she was doing, she moved to help her stand. "I think she's made up her mind, doctor. Would you please get us the paperwork to sign so that I can get her home?"

Sara was already dressing in the clothes that Catherine had brought for her.

Still believing that this was a bad idea, the doctor reluctantly agreed and turned to exit the room. "Oh, Ms. Sidle, there are two officers out here to speak with you about your accident." With a smug grin plastered across his face, the doctor finally left.

"Just follow my lead," Sara said to Catherine before sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

Catherine locked eyes with her and didn't have time to respond before two officers that neither of them recognized came into the room.

One was wearing a Nevada Highway Patrol uniform. "I'm Corporal Henderson with the Nevada Highway Patrol and this is Deputy McInnis. We need to ask you a few questions about your accident."

"I was driving too fast. Something ran out in front of me. I swerved to avoid it and lost control." Catherine's eyes went wide at what Sara was telling the officers.

"What were you doing out near Indian Springs?" Deputy McInnis asked.

"We'd had a fight," Sara said looking up at Catherine. "I just needed to get away for a while. I went for a drive. I was on my way back when whatever it was ran out in front of me."

The patrolman studied Sara for a minute before shrugging his shoulders, "I guess you were just one lucky woman then. Your truck was so far off the road, most people wouldn't have seen you. Fortunately for you, a driver passing by saw your headlights and pulled you out before calling 911."

"Who was it that found her?" Catherine stepped toward the two men. "I'd … I'd like to thank whoever it was. She could have been out there for hours…or days if someone hadn't noticed her."

"The phone call was placed from a payphone at a gas station a few miles down the road from her accident. The only thing I can tell you was that it was a man." The patrolman turned his attention to Sara. "Do you remember being pulled out of the truck?"

"Huh?" Sara's mind was obviously elsewhere as the two men were still trying to ascertain what had happened to her. Catherine put her hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. "I'm sorry. No, I don't recall being pulled out of the truck. I just remember something running in front of me and then a lot of screeching and flipping."

Sara stood up and put a hand on Catherine to steady herself. "I'm sorry, fellas. What can I say? Catherine here has been telling me forever that my driving is going to get me hurt one day. I was just driving too fast and then did something stupid. No one here is to blame except me."

"In any event, your vehicle was towed from the scene. Here's a card for the guy who picked it up. I'm sure you have some personal effects to get out of it and your insurance company is going to want to look over it before they say it's totaled."

Catherine took the card that was extended to Sara. "Thank you, gentlemen. Now, if you'll excuse us. I want to get her discharge papers signed and get her home."

"You two drive carefully," the deputy said to them as they walked away.

Once Sara and Catherine were clear of hearing anything the two officers might say, the deputy turned to the patrolman. "Why didn't you say anything about the skid marks or paint transfer?"

"Something's not right. Sidle knew who ran her off the road, but she wouldn't tell us. I've worked with the other one before. She's like a dog with a bone. She knows something is going on, too."

"So you're just going to let this go?" The Deputy seemed concerned and worried that the patrolman was willing to let Sara leave without truthfully explaining what had happened.

"Those two will get farther on their own investigating what happened than we ever could. It's late, and I'm not interested in doing more paperwork than necessary. If she wants us to believe that some phantom animal ran out in front of her, I'm willing to accept it." He put his hand on the young deputy's shoulder, "Come on, I'll buy you a coffee."


End file.
